


Conversations in Skull Cavern

by SaintImperator



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:07:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9651137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintImperator/pseuds/SaintImperator
Summary: Ok so after the end of the Unbroken Circle I wrote a lot of moody one-offs.This is my favorite, as I'm incredibly fond of Peter Pan and the theory that Neverland is some kind of afterlife.If you haven't read the Unbroken Circle and wish to avoid spoilers I would avoid this til then.





	

I was getting used to the island. Slightly, Nibbs and Curly had been tasked with showing me around until I got a feel for things. Peter couldn’t be bothered. If he found it tedious he wasn’t willing to do it. At first he was eager, wanted to show off how bold he was for killing the vicious wolves that preyed on the pirates who preyed on the natives who preyed on the wolves. I had killed a lot of wolves before and even when Peter split the beast open in a single swipe of his dagger I didn’t have an intense reaction. He realized that I had seen some things before coming to the Neverland. 

But I told better stories then the rest of the lost boys, so I was allowed to stay. Peter had never let anyone so close to maturity share the island with him. He liked to be the oldest, but I was a curiosity. No one knows how they come to the Neverland if Peter himself doesn’t bring them, and he couldn’t remember bringing me. All the same I was here. 

Fwahe came to visit me more then I expected. She wasn’t supposed to be able to do that. Peter said we weren’t allowed to have visitors from outside, but he couldn’t stop her coming. She was far more fearsome then the Princess Tiger Lily, and could’ve killed Peter with a wink of her eye. She only showed up near Skull Rock, which required a tedious amount of swimming to reach. Peter and the Lost Boys rarely went that far, but I liked the caves lonely echoes. 

She only came at night, when the Lost Boys and Peter were nestled snuggly in the home under the ground. A girl called Wendy had implemented bedtimes long ago. Her daughters came to the island for spring cleanings and were delightfully sensible. One called Margret had mended my apron, which was torn on the way here. I didn’t wear the church robes any more. The wind cut right through them, and they’d grown threadbare besides. 

Peter gave me new ones, made from sap and soft leaves sewn together by fairy seamstresses. They sparkled with golden embroidery and were decorated with feathers. The other Lost Boys, the twins especially were jealous. They wore the skins of animals but Peter thought I was something different. Since I grew feathers I must be a fairy too and had to be suitably garbed. 

Fwahe thought I looked ridiculous. The first time she’d seen it the hollow stones echoed with her laughter for hours. She could only see me when she dreamed, and I don’t think the waking world held it in her memory very long. She still sometimes chuckled. 

Not tonight. Tonight she wanted to talk, hands trailing through the wet sand while she worked up the courage to start a conversation. 

“Thanks for visiting.” I said. 

“It’s not like I try too.” Fwahe said, “It just happens sometimes.” 

“You know you could come see the rest of the island sometime, if you like.” I offered. 

She shook her head, “If I went any further I wouldn’t be able to come back. If I tasted the food here I would never be able to find substance in the waking world. These are the shores of the dead, church boy. Don’t you know that?” 

She’d said that several times and I still wasn’t sure if I held it as the truth. “How is the church?” 

She shrugged. “It still stands in Yharnam. Your vicar is getting old. I don’t think he’s going to last much longer. He still preaches some days, when I was last there he was talking about you.” 

She usually says this, but I don’t always believe her. Tonight I wanted more. “What did he say about me?” 

“It wasn’t anything you’d want to hear.” She said, shaking her head, and shaking the conversation away. 

“Please tell me anyway.” I begged. 

She couldn’t take it when I begged. The fire she spat at me was long fizzled out. “He was talking about the dangers of sodomy and back rooms of Red Street brothels. Somehow your name came up along with the names of other deviants. The Healing Church probably just blames everything on you now.” 

Now it was my chance to chuckle. “I can’t believe he still remembers that.” 

“Remembers what?” She asked. 

I fiddled with the ring stuck in my ear, struck with the symbols of the Prestwick Company. It was lodged deep in the cartilage, stinging when shifted. I had used to mess with the crosses that dangled from my ears and despite the passing time hadn’t been able to cut out the habit. They were gone but this remained. 

The story took a moment to collect itself before I relayed it to Fwahe. 

“It was a long time ago. I think I was twelve, maybe thirteen. Every year at Yuletide we hosted visitors, hunters from all over. I was accustomed to this and it was great to hear wisdom from other church elders…sometimes…uhh…Alfred joined us.” 

I had to stop. I kept forgetting that he was the one who had sent me here. His apologies rang in my ears. They hadn’t stopped, shrouding me in sorrow until Peter broke through and told me to come away from the nightmare. 

“Liar.” Fwahe spat, her saliva joining with the tides that ebbed and flowed. 

I ignored it. This wasn’t about Executioner Alfred. This was about mistletoe, and Han-Bin. 

“The Powder Keg hunters were regulars. Their return was as familiar to me as pine trees and popcorn strings, another part of the holidays. Every year I looked forward to their return. A hunter called Han-Bin was one year my senior. He had skin like milk, unbelievably white even for Yharnam standards. His eyes were angled and narrowed, which some people made fun of him for, but when he smiled they’d be almost completely obscured, his whole face would just wrinkle into smiles. Han-Bin had the best laugh, and stories from the far off Orient.” 

“The Orient?” Fwahe asked. 

“Yes. He bought me paper cranes, dried tea and wrote in strange characters.” I said. “Anyway when I was twelve or thirteen they’d started talking to us about girls. Eros had his problems as you can imagine but Yilmarie and I never really spent our time on them. When I got asked about it I could say I liked someone’s hair or their eyes but I was a man of the church. I wasn’t meant for such things.” 

She snorted. “Church men visit brothels just as much as anyone- if not more.” 

“Spent much time in a brothel?” I asked. 

“I’ve spent a lot of time in a lot of different brothels. “She quipped, “And let me tell you the amount of priests, clergymen and white-robed novices who found their way onto beds and found themselves inside of-“ 

“That’s enough! I get it!” I shouted. 

We listened to my awkward exclamation bounce off the water and the walls. Our eyes followed the sound, though there was nothing to see. Fwahe hadn’t noticed it yet, but I saw the faintest hint of dawn approaching, a singular shade-shift in the sky. She’d have to go soon. 

“Anyways, I hadn’t felt that way about girls…but when Han-Bin came back it was different. When he spoke I was focused on his lips instead of his words. He, seemed to be of a similar mind and spent the whole night strategically close to me. When we were thrown into dances we chose partners who’d want to be close to each other. We could be close to each other. The Vicars had never talked to me about boys, so I didn’t know but I somehow just knew. You weren’t supposed to dance with them.” 

“And you did anyway?” Fwahe asked. 

“Of course not!” I said, “We just danced in the same line, with our church sisters. He gave me all of his desserts. I was inclined to indulging in a lot of sweets back then, and had a bit of a stomach to prove it.” 

She poked me in the stomach now. “Where’d it go, church boy? You’re looking thin to me.” 

“There aren’t cream puffs on this island.” I sighed. 

“I’ll bring you some next time.” She offered. 

She wouldn’t remember too. She’d promised a few times before. 

“He said he wanted to make some tea, and I offered to show him around the kitchen. We had to pass under a sprig of mistletoe to get there and when…when we passed under he pulled me close. He said something, but I wasn’t focused on his words…I was focused on his lips and…well they found a way to…talk without…talking.” 

I turned bright red, but the Vileblood couldn’t resist the opportunity to interrogate. 

“Talk without talking? That is very unclear. Would you mind being more specific?” She asked. 

“He kissed me ok? Happy?” 

She grinned, “Incredibly, church boy. Continue.” 

“I…I think I kissed him back but I don’t remember. We went to the kitchen…Veera came in after and she said Head Vicar Lanthem needed to see me immediately, that it was an emergency and to meet him in his office. I raced off, I was afraid something had gone terribly wrong. There was no mistletoe over the door way when I left.” 

She felt bad for pressing me, retreating back to drawing her patterns in the sand while she listened. 

“Head Vicar Lanthem asked what I’d done. I didn’t know any better and I asked what he meant. He was appalled, asked me where I’d gotten these radical and disobedient ideas. Said that I’d always been a model son of the church. I was so confused. My confusion just made him angry. He asked me to hold out my arms, an old schoolboy’s punishment. A few strikes from a rod and the question came again, what had I done?” 

She muttered something, tossing a stone into the water. I didn’t make out what it was, and carried on. 

“I…I didn’t want to get Han-Bin in trouble. They already knew though, but I wasn’t aware of that. I didn’t want to get him punished so I pretended not to know. Head Vicar Lanthem had to draw blood before I told him. He said I’d shamed the church, Mother Kos and the gods old and new. I would stay in my dormitory and be banned from the Yuletide festivities. I wasn’t able to say goodbye and Han-Bin didn’t come back the next year. Or the year after that. None of the Powder Kegs spoke of him, and I learned in the following years what a sin it was to have given in to feelings like that.” 

“It’s not-“ 

“It is.” I said back. 

She tried to think of something else, wanting to continue. I wasn’t going to let her. 

“It’s nearly dawn.” I said, “You should be getting back.” 

She put her arms around me, pulling me close to her. Strange to be hugged by the usually aloof Vileblood, but I returned it. She was sentimental sometimes, bad with goodbyes. 

“Don’t worry.” I said, “I’ll be here whenever you come back.” 

She broke the embrace. “Promise?” 

“I promise.” 

She nodded and disappeared deep into the caverns, where Peter had told me not to trek. I usually headed right back to the home under the ground to help make breakfast, but today I pressed against the wall of the cave that composed the right eye of the Skull Rock skull and listened to the echoes of retreating footprints. 

Skin like milk and hidden eye smiles. How long had it been since I thought of him. 

“May the good blood guide your way.” I said, hoping the waves would carry the message back to shore with the Vileblood, and beyond to the long forgotten Powder Keg hunter. The blessing bring good fortune upon the both of them. 

When the sun reached its peak I left the cave heading back to the Lost Boys. I didn’t want them to worry, nor did I want Peter to forget to feed them. Make believe and real were a blurred line to the self-proclaimed charismatic leader of the Neverland. Someone had to look after him. Day in and day out I filled that role, and gave my nights to the Vileblood. 

That was the only time I thought her words were true, and worried I was on the shores of death. The times when I realized, I no longer needed to sleep. The dream unending or the world ever awoken?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
